The Retrograde
by BellatrixLestrangey
Summary: Acxa finds herself in a parallel universe where she meets Azula. Hoping to find somewhere new, Azula decides to help her get home.


Acxa always imagined that if she were to ever be sucked through a void into another reality, it would be a parallel one—on the same time plane but with some oddities—or be propelled forward into a reality that was far advanced. The thought of going backwards was somehow incomprehensible. At least in a reality like that, there were ways and technologies to get oneself back to where one was supposed to be on the space-time plane. Yet that's not how it was. Not at all. She didn't even have her ship. The minute she crash landed, it seemed to fizzle out of existence altogether, the only trace of it was a smoking crater in the ground and a few pieces of scrap metal that the universe forgot to claim. She was thankful for them though. They were the only visages she had left to reassure her that she hadn't lost her mind—the only things that reminded her that she wasn't always from this foreign world.

In her days, Acxa has been around, mostly traversing the galaxy, weaving through fields upon fields of stars and cosmic dust. But she'd never seen anything quite like this. The place was completely lacking in most every advancement that she was used to. There was nothing to program, no buttons to press. The only crafts that speckled the sky were rudimentary—dare she say, flimsy—balloon ships. She removed her helmet, suddenly feeling like it had no place there…like she herself had no business being there.

With nothing else to do, Acxa wandered aimlessly about, looking for signs of civilization. But the path before her was lonely and seemed to stretch on and on with nothing but trees, ferns, and other plant life. And from the looks of it, night would fast be falling. She wondered what nights were like on this planet, and hoped more than anything else that they were safe, unlike some of the planets she'd been to. In the dying light of dusk, this world showed itself distortedly. The way its sun drooped splayed elongated shadows across the ground, giving everything else a warped longer look. The golden haze that befell the landscape was much too vibrant for Acxa's liking. But the sky…the sky was breathtaking. It spread out like a yellow-orange sheet with splotches of pink and purple. Her home didn't have anything quite like it. She almost felt that it was wrong for her to be witnessing it alone.

Amid the pinks and oranges she could make out a puff of grey-black. Curling smoke from within the trees. It didn't look too far off and she wondered if it was a good idea to venture in that direction, knowing next to nothing about the people or creatures of this world. But she had no other place to go and whoever used that fire was her best shot to find a place. She gave her ship one last comb-through, collecting the last of the essentials. She was glad she'd taken the second look, she'd almost forgotten her gun. She'd need that if she wanted to make sure she'd have the upper hand if the person with the fire didn't take a shine to her. Slinging her pack over her shoulder, she took one last glance at her ship. Its hazard lights blinking helplessly in the dying light.

 **.oOo.**

Azula shivered. It was oddly cold that night. She considered that perhaps she simply wasn't accustomed to anything below 75 degrees. Another chill ran down her spine so she expanded her fire. She decided that it wasn't her, it was definitely unusually cold. It was like something had caused some sort of rift in the air, inviting in a nippy feeling. It has been a while since Azula had longed for home; but between the near-cold and the unsettling feeling that something was wrong in the world, she wanted to be there more than ever. Instead she was venerable and exposed with nothing but a blanket, her campfire, and her bending at her disposal. She wrapped the blanket tightly around herself and dimmed the fire. The embers had scarcely begun to die when a rustling in the forest had her igniting them in full once more.

In its reawakened light she could make out a figure, quite taller than herself and with a style of dress Azula had never seen before. At first she thought it was a trick of the light, but no…the hue of her skin was definitely off. Off was an understatement, the woman had skin of a purply-blue—the kind of skin that she'd only seen on corpses. Azula squinted, wondering if the woman was—the word hesitated to come forth even in her mind—dead? That was impossible. She gazed briefly into eyes, also of an odd color; yellow where white should be with deep blue Water Tribe irises. Most peculiarly though, was how startlingly similar her facial structure and overall demeanor was to Azula's own. The former princess considered that this being might be from the Spirit World. That was the most probable explanation she could rationalize.

No matter where her origin, one thing was obvious; Azula need to strike first.

The woman…thing in front of her was saying something, but Azula didn't listen. She'd give the being time to talk later. She dropped her blanket and in one fluid motion came to stand behind the woman that looked so oddly like herself, with a flame to her throat.


End file.
